A/N: I know nothing about dodgeball (except that I am absolutely rubbish at it), American University or America in general, if I'm being completely honest. All mistakes are mine. I will try to update at least once a week; I had this already typed up so I thought I might as well upload it now!
II
Santana Lopez
Lima, Ohio
Age: 20
Major: Social Studies
Career Aim: Law
Senior
5'5"
Position: Thrower
By now, I was sure that Brittany had read my bio in the program. I had made sure that she'd gotten one, sweet-talking Stubbles (the water guy) into wheeling his ugly ass over to her and thrusting one into her hands. She'd smiled at him then, resulting in a menacing scowl thrown his way by yours truly.
"For God's sake Lopez, is this your first date or something?" teased a horrifically nasal voice. I scowled.
"Because you get so much yourself, right Preggers? Go back to being blown off by Berry," I snarked. Fabray, one of the snipers on the team, glared right back, placing her hands on her hips.
"Fuck off," she hissed, glancing sideways to make sure that the midget in question wasn't in hearing range. "She's back with Finn, anyway."
Ignoring her, (I wasn't in the mood for yet another one of her in-the-closet-lesbian-dramas) I warmed up on the court, not bothering to wave at Brittany (I mean, how lame would that be? I had at least a smidge of pride), or even look her way. And yet I think she thought I was glancing at her. But I didn't. A lot. I didn't stare at her at all.
By the end of the first half, I was exhausted. It was 3 men, I mean women, down on each side, and it seemed to me as if no one else on my team was even bothering to fucking try. So I played dirtier, aiming anywhere, and at anyone that I could, even elbowing one of my team out of the way on one occasion. I just had to fucking win, especially with her sitting in the stands, especially after fucking inviting her here to watch me play. At least she'd have a good view of my ass, even if we didn't win, I reasoned to myself. I didn't wear gym shorts because they're comfortable, after all.
Thwack. I'd seen that Asian chick, Chang or Corazon, or whatever the fuck her name was (one of Harvard's snipers) sneaking towards me, ball in hand. So I lobbed mine at her face. I mean, it's not my fault she was vertically challenged. Nor was it my fault that her hand had gotten in the fucking way and bounced onto her nose, resulting in a strangely satisfying crunching sound. How I love the sound of defeat.
A whistle blew.
"You—two minutes on the bench!"
I looked up. He pointed to me, and I angrily shook my head. Me? What the fuck had I done?
"Come on ref, I didn't fucking do anything!"
He merely shook is head, and pointed towards the bench. I swore, and sulkily shuffled to the side of the court, making sure to flip both him, and Fabray, who was smirking infuriatingly, off.
"Why are you sitting here when all your friends are out playing?"
The voice was Brittany's. I huffed, and ignored her, keeping my eye on the game instead.
"Buddy up! Fucking hell Motta, smash them! No, not like that Berry, you useless piece of garbage!" I yelled, my hair sticking to my face. She chuckled.
"What did you do wrong?"
I turned and answered her. I mean, it would only have been rude to ignore my date like that.
"I tried too hard." And I went back to watching my team's abysmal efforts at throwing a ball.
"Is that such a bad thing?"
I shot a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She smirked playfully at me.
"Britt, come on. I'm trying to concentrate for God's sake!"
"On what?"
"On how I'm going to wreck that bitch Jones! Now just fuck off, wouldja?" Even in my furious state, I couldn't help mumbling a quiet apology to her. After all, she hadn't done anything wrong.
Whether she heard or not, I didn't care, and seemingly, neither did she, instead continuing to badger me.
"Are you a dirty player?" She winked playfully at me, and I felt myself growing frustrated again. "Would you ever 'wreck' me?"
I snapped. "I will right now if you don't shut up." She scoffed.
"I'm leaving now. Goodbye."
By the time I turned around, she was gone. As I stood up to see whether she had gone back to her seat or not, I was informed that my two minutes were up. I ran onto the court.
The crowd welcomed my return, and I reciprocated their sentiments with my signature cocky smirk. Wherever she was hiding, Brittany would hear the big enthusiasm for my presence. So who cares where she is.
Where is she?
Next thing I knew, I was met with a ball only a few inches from my face. I ducked, just in time, the ball barely skimming over my ponytail. A ball rolled by my feet, and I reached to get it—but slipped. I was on my ass, the crowd was booing and I was flushing red.
What would Brittany think? That I was some lame date that had acted like a big shot when actually I couldn't even fucking pick up a ball without falling? I wasn't having that.
I jumped up, grabbed the ball and threw it at the opposing team, smirking when it impacted with a satisfying 'thwack'. By some stroke of luck, the ball ricocheted off Jones and onto Chang, meaning there was only Rose left. Victory was so fucking close, I could almost taste it.
"Go San go! Knock their heads off!"
I heard Brittany's scream (although I blushed at her nickname for me, that wasn't cool in any way or form) above the crowd. It was beautifully violent. Fuelled by her approval, I signalled for a buddy up, and after a short countdown, we flung the remaining balls, with as much force as we could muster, at the girl.
In an instant, we were hugging and kissing. Me and Fabray and Berry and all the other girls. Hugging and kissing, and screaming. I felt myself being lifted up onto their shoulders, and I searched through the crowd of screaming fans for Brittany. She caught my eye, and gave me a sinfully adorable grin, mouthing "well done!" to me. I smiled back, suddenly bashful.
I stood under the spray of the locker room showers, exhaling in pleasure as the hot water hit my sore muscles. Finally, I was able to bask in my victory and just relax, thinking about both nothing, and everything.
"Lopez?" It was Motta, catcher for our team, and also one of the fucking weirdest people I had ever met. I swear to god, once she called me 'Mom'. Weird, or what? Anyway, she was normally quite nice, excluding her 'self-diagnosed Asperger's', so I humoured her.
"Yes, Motta?" There was a silence.
"Oh. Nothing. I just wanted to say hi, and ask what you were doing tonight. I mean, it's cause you're kind of a bitch, so I didn't think you'd have any friends to celebrate with. Sorry, Asperger's."
I stifled a snort. What planet was she from again?
"Actually, I have a date. Her name's—" Fuck, Brittany! I'd completely forgotten about her. And she was probably waiting for me out in the cold, while I was wasting time talking to a lunatic. Would she even still be there?
Hurriedly, I got out of the shower, not even bothering to wrap the towel around myself properly, and with record speed, got dressed and grabbed my bag, walking outside. The cold hair hit me; it was fucking freezing, literally, I knew that my nipples were literally about to drop off. So much for thermal bras.
I breathed a sigh of relief—Brittany was standing there, her nose pink in the crisp air, despite the various scarves that were swaddling her neck.
"About time Preppie, I was freezing out here!" Her eyes twinkled.
Was I glad to see her!
"Britt!"
Without a second thought, I reached up and kissed her lightly on the forehead. She narrowed her eyes.
"Did I say you could?"
"What?"
"Did I say you could kiss me?"
"Sorry. I was carried away."
She giggled.
"I wasn't."
Closing my eyes, I grabbed her by the waist and tugged her towards me, pressing my mouth against hers in a searing kiss. Her lips were cold against mine, and I felt her lips curve into a smile, before I pulled away.
"What was that?" She raised an eyebrow playfully.
I rolled my eyes, and leaned in, kissing her again, for longer this time. When we finally stopped kissing, the tips of her ears were pink, and she was smiling like a goofball.
"I don't like it."
"What?"
"The fact that I like it."
As we walked back to her campus, she held onto my pinky tightly with her own. God knows how stupid we looked, two girls walking with their pinkies linked and their lips swollen from stolen kisses. At the doorstep of her halls, she moved to kiss me and I turned my cheek.
"Listen, Britt. I might not call you for a few months."
Silence.
Finally, she asked, "Why?"
I smirked.
"Then again, I may call you as soon as I get to my room." Touché.
I turned, and with a flirty wink, began to make my way home.
"Asshole," I heard her giggle.
I pivoted again, and grinned.
"See Britt, you can dish it, but you can't take it!"
She laughed, and waved me off, disappearing into her room.
My roommate, Berry, was performing yet another rendition of Don't Rain On My Parade with her 'Glee club' friends as I entered the room. I rolled my eyes good-naturedly.
"Hello, ladies and gays."
Rachel (Berry) glared at me from where she was singing. I looked to my left, and saw Hummel frantically motioning for me to shut up—it wouldn't do to interrupt a Berry solo. I rolled my eyes a second time, and headed straight to the fridge, grabbing a beer.
Motta, (why the fuck was she everywhere?!) looked up and waved.
"Lopez! How was your date?"
Twelve pairs of eyes snapped up. Even Berry forgot to complain about her lack of applause. I sighed—preparing myself for the interrogation.
"Date? What date? Why didn't I hear about this?!" That was Fabray.
An unnaturally feminine voice spoke up. "Didn't you hear? She's seeing Brittany, you know, Mike's friend?"
I glared at Kurt and he shut up immediately.
Berry opened her mouth, probably to say something obnoxious and self-centered per usual, but promptly shut it, following a dig in the ribs from Fabray.
Ignoring these imbeciles, I headed to my room, shutting the door behind me and dialled Brittany's number, lying back on the bed.
She picked up after the first ring.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, Britt…"
"What is it?"
A pause.
"Britt…what would you say if I told you…"
She waited. I continued, feeling strangely content.
"I think…I'm in love with you."
Silence.
She answered very softly.
"I would say…you were full of shit."
She hung up.
I wasn't unhappy. Or surprised.
Yes/no? I love reviews. Thank you to all those that left me lovely reviews (': much love xo